


It Should've Been You

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: When the reader gets a little too close to Juice at a party, it forces Chibs to re-evaluate his feelings for her.





	It Should've Been You

You were oblivious to the game going on beside you until a chorus of catcalls grabbed your attention, tearing you away from your conversation with Jax to see a host of eyes fixed on you.  A circle had formed, made up of outlaws and scantily clad sweet butts, clustered around a single bottle of beer, the neck of which was currently pointing at a small gap in the bodies that sat cross-legged on the floor, directly at you.

‘I think you’re up, darlin’,’ Jax teased and you shook your head, wrinkling your nose is distaste.

‘What?  Are we back in high school?  You’re seriously playing spin the bottle?’  Juice was eying you sheepishly from across the circle, running a hand over his strip of dark hair, shrugging when you met his gaze.  ‘C’mon, guys, I’m not even part of the game!’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Happy told you, all business as he gestured to the space you occupied.  ‘The bottle is king.’

You turned to Jax, hoping for support, but were to be disappointed when he spread his hands wide, a beaming grin of amusement dimpling his cheeks.  ‘Don’t look at me.  Rules are rules, right?’

You knew you were being a buzzkill, but you had a good reason, or so you thought.  Your heart belonged to another member, the guy who had dominated your thoughts since he’d sauntered into the T.M. office on your first day of work and offered you a coffee in a lilting Scottish accent that made your pulse race.  Chibs didn’t know the effect he had on you, of course he didn’t, but that didn’t mean you were going to throw yourself at one of his brothers and ruin any chance you might have.

You glanced around now, stalling as you sought out the object of your affections, only to find him propping up the bar with a raven-haired crow eater standing between knees.  A steely resolve came over you and you handed Jax your drink, opening your arms and cocking your head to one side.  ‘Alright, let’s get this over with.’

A cheer went up as the Puerto Rican clambered to his feet, tugging up the back of his jeans, an awkward smile playing over his features as he picked his way towards you.  He fell into your arms to a loud whistle from Tig, but when his lips found yours, his kiss was sweet, his mouth moving gently over your own, and you found yourself surprisingly breathless as he pulled away, a warm buzz seeping through your veins. 

‘Thanks,’ he murmured as his hands fell from your hips, and you nodded slowly.  He was already turning away, ready to take his place back in the circle, and you grabbed him without thinking, fisting the back of his shirt and jerking him back in your direction.  ‘Hey, you definitely owe me a drink for that, dude!’

An hour later, you were sprawled on one of the clubhouse couches, your body pressed to Juice’s as he lay beneath you, devouring each other with greedy, drunken enthusiasm.  An empty tequila bottle sat abandoned on the floor, two shot glasses lying haphazardly beside it, and lust was simmering deep in your belly.  The noise and chaos of the party had faded away as you’d crawled into the outlaw’s lap, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck and reeling him in, pulling him deeper, chocolate brown eyes locking with yours as you took what you needed.

It wasn’t what you’d intended to happen when you’d tugged him away from the game, though his kiss had stirred something within you.  Chibs’ preference for cheap flings had simply given you the desperate need to get wasted and Juice had been one of your favourite drinking buddies since the first time he’d come to you with the accounts for Clear Passages, a pleading expression and a bottle of liquor, and you’d sat up long into the night, running over the figures and getting gradually more giggly and ridiculous.  It had never ended this way before but, as you slid your hand beneath his shirt, fingers flexing over the defined muscles of his stomach, you couldn’t even begin to remember why.

His own hands had begun to journey south, drifting down your spine and stroking over the curve of your hips, and you moaned against his lips, seconds away from demanding that he get you out of there, take you home, take you anywhere where you could enjoy each other away from prying eyes, but then a firm grip took hold of your arm, fingers biting into your skin, and you were yanked upright with a harshness that sent a wave of nausea washing over you.

‘What the hell are ye doin’, ya idjit?’  Chibs was snapping, his usual soft tones abrupt and angry.  ‘Can’t ya see she’s off her fuckin’ head?’

Before the Puerto Rican could begin to argue, you were being dragged away, casting one last desperate look back at him as he stared after you with wide, glazed eyes.

The lights of the bar darkened into gloom as you were pulled along the corridor towards one of the dorm rooms at the back of the clubhouse, shoved roughly inside with Chibs close behind you, the door slamming shut and making you flinch.

He was breathing hard when he released you, standing the centre of the room, fists clenched.  ‘Ye need to sleep it off.’

‘I-I’m sorry,’ you slurred, still unsure of what was happening.  Seconds ago you’d been wrapped in a strong set of arms and now you were swaying on the spot, confused, feeling naked under Chibs’ gaze.  ‘I didn’t mean…  It wasn’t…’

‘What were ye thinkin’, love?  I mean, really?  Him?’

You shifted uncomfortably, wishing the room would cease its spinning so that you could stand up for yourself, not understanding where the Scot’s anger was coming from.  

'I don’t know.’  His glare told you that that wasn’t a good enough explanation and you bristled slightly, squaring your shoulders as you growled, 'Look, I’m drunk, okay?  Like tequila drunk which is way worse than just regular drunk, and he was there and he’s kinda pretty, and I wanted to kiss somebody!  S'no different to what you guys do with the damn sweet butts, which is like, super trashy by the way.’

You tried to raise your arm to jab a finger at his chest, but the movement threw you off-balance and you wobbled alarmingly.  For the first time since he’d interrupted your make-out session, Chibs’ expression softened and a deep rumble of a laugh escaped him as he reached out to steady you.  'Is that right?  C'mon, t’ bed with ya, girl.  Ya need t’ lie down 'fore ya drop.’

He pulled back the covers, watching as you kicked off your boots and shuffled towards him, sinking down onto the mattress with a tired sigh.  He dropped to his knees as he tucked you in, a half-smile quirking his lips as he brushed your hair back from your face.  For a moment, your mind played tricks on you, the alcohol in your system lighting a spark of hope in your chest and you couldn’t help but wonder whether it may have been jealousy that had flipped the switch on his temper.  Reaching out to trail your fingers over his cheek, you attempted a seductive husk.  'You know, you could kiss me if you wanted to?’

His smile faltered for a moment, before he shook his head.  ‘Nah, love.  Ye don’t want that.  I’m old enough t’ be your daddy.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Nah,’ he said again, and this time he dropped his eyes to the bed, picking at a loose thread on the quilt.  ‘That’s more Tiggy’s style.’

Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout, but you nodded slowly, accepting his rejection.  ‘Will you at least hold me ‘til I fall asleep?’

‘Aye, now that I can do.’  He waited for you to shuffle over, then lowered his long body down beside you, stretching out an arm so you could curl into him, resting your head on his chest.  He was warm and whiskey-scented, and your eyelids grew heavy as his fingers stroked over your waist, pulling you in closer.  

Sleep had almost taken you when you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, and you nestled into the crook of his neck, sure you might be dreaming.  But then two calloused fingers were slipping beneath your chin and tilting your face up so his lips could brush yours.  His whiskers scratched against your skin, and his voice was a soft whisper as he bid you goodnight.

 

* * *

 

The pounding in your head dragged you back to consciousness, squinting into the daylight that was flooding in through the windows, wishing that you could slip back into sleep.  Your dream had been soft and comfortable but your hangover was very real, and you wanted more than anything to escape it.  As you eased yourself up onto your elbows, eyes still narrowed against the glare, you realised that you were alone in the bed, but a pint glass full of water and a couple of aspirin lay waiting on the bedside table, and you smiled a little despite your pain.  And then the memories of the night before came crashing down around you and you sank back against your pillow with a groan.  You were never drinking again.  

An little over an hour later, you shuffled into the bar, freshly-showered and feeling a little more human, though you’d only managed to pull on a pair of Jax’s old tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt that you’d found in the drawers in the dorm room, tying your damp hair back from your face with a hairband that you assumed must belong to Ope.

At first you thought the place was deserted but, as you moved further into the room, you noticed the figure on the couch, sitting quietly with his head tilted back against the cushions, steam rising from the mug of coffee in his hand.

‘Hi.’  

At the sound of your voice, Chibs craned his neck to see you, shooting you a crooked grin and leaning forward to rest his drink on the floor, patting his knees for you to sink down on his lap, which you did, relishing the feel of him as he wrapped an arm around you.  ‘Morning.  How’re ye feelin’?’

‘Like death,’ you admitted, drawing a deep chuckle from his chest.

‘Aye, well, I’m not surprised.  Ye had a skinful last night, love.’

‘God, don’t remind me.’  You rubbed a hand over your tired eyes, sighing deeply.  ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ye don’ have t’ apologise to me.’  He shrugged and you wriggled where you sat, sinking lower so you could rest your head in the crook of his neck.  ‘I jus’ din’t want ya doin’ anything ye might regret, tha’s all.  Speakin’ of, have ye seen the lad yet?’

‘No, not yet.’  You were glad now that the Scot couldn’t see your face as you were sure that your embarrassment was painted over your features as clear as day.  ‘Honestly, I’m kinda hoping he’s happy to just forget the whole thing.’

‘Reckon he might be,’ Chibs assured you.  ‘Caught him earlier lookin’ more than a little shame-faced.  Think he’s worried he might’ve lost a friend.’

‘Or that he’s gonna have to start managing the Clear Passages accounts by himself,’ you scoffed, shaking your head, though you were glad that you didn’t have to worry about having a difficult conversation.

Chibs laughter mingled with your own before he grew serious again, fingers worrying at a small tear on the knee of your trousers.  ‘Ye remember what happened then?’

‘Oh yeah, I remember everything.  I remember spin the bottle, I remember a lot of tequila, I remember making out with Juice on this couch, and I remember you dragging me away.’  You hesitated, wondering whether to bring up what had happened next, but you couldn’t resist pursuing it, that particular memory that was playing even more vividly in your head now that you were cradled against the outlaw’s broad chest.  ‘I also remember asking you to kiss me when you put me to bed.’

Chibs cleared his throat, playing for time before he asked, ‘Is that right?’

‘Uh huh.’  You looked up now, meeting his eyes, reading his reactions.  His gaze had darkened, and that small spark of hope that had encouraged you to reach out to him the night before flickered to life again.  ‘And I remember that you did.’

He fell silent for a beat, as though trying to figure out what to say, what you wanted from him, but then he ducked his head, letting out a husky sigh.  ‘I’m sorry, love.  Shouldn’a taken advantage.  Too much temptation for an old man.’

‘No, I-I liked it,’ you insisted, reaching out to cup his cheek and force his face up once again.  

‘Tha’s the tequila talkin’.’

‘No, it’s not.  It’s…’  You tailed off, knowing that you were taking a risk by pushing your point, but also feeling like this might be the only opportunity that you’d get to put yourself out there.  ‘I wanted you, Chibby.  I always want you.  You just… you always seem to be otherwise occupied.’

Something flashed across his face, an expression you didn’t quite recognise, but you knew then that you’d been right when you’d read his anger at finding you lost in a lustful embrace with his brother as jealousy.  ‘I din’t know ye were interested.’

You could tell he was still worried: about the age gap, the alcohol that might still be lowering your inhibitions, about tying himself down in a life that was as unpredictable as it was dangerous.  You knew that there was only one way to quiet those doubts, and you leaned your forehead against his, taking a shaky breath before you brushed your lips against his, moaning a little at the taste of him.  Once, twice, you kissed him, light, tentative presses of your mouth to his, and then he finally moved, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck so he could pull you in deeper, sinking in to you like he belonged there, a deep growl escaping him when you finally broke away.

You were breathless, your voice barely a whisper when you insisted, ‘I am, interested, I mean.  Last night, it was just a stupid attempt to distract myself but… it should’ve been you.  It’s always been you.’

‘But-’

‘Please, Chibs.’  You sat up straighter, bringing your faces level, taking control, lacing your fingers into his hair as you tried to coax him forward.  ‘Kiss me again.  Please.  I want this.’

It was all it took before his mouth was crashing down on yours, more forceful than before, needier, and his hands were gripping your waist, twisting you round so you could straddle him on the couch, pulling you impossibly closer as his scruff scratched against your skin.  Every kiss was searing hot, his touch burning as his fingers trailed down your neck, and you knew that this was for keeps.  It had to be.  He couldn’t kiss you like that and think he could just walk away and pretend it meant nothing.

The moment was interrupted the creak of the outside door to the clubhouse swinging open, and Chibs drew back, eyes glazed, to take in the arrival that had torn his attention away from you.  Juice was hovering in the doorway, hands buried deep in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably.  ‘Oh, I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to-’

‘Get the hell out o’ here, Juicy boy,’ the Scot instructed, his gaze already drifting back to you as he stroked your hair back from your face, wild strands having already escaped your ponytail as you’d lost yourself in him.  ‘I’m about to get better acquainted with my new old lady, if ye don’t mind.’

You could hear Juice’s laughter as he left you, fading away as he headed towards T.M., safe in the knowledge that your friendship was very much in tact.  And as your back met the soft leather of the couch, and your clothes gathered in a small pile on the floor, you couldn’t help but hum in contentment.  Yes, it should’ve been Chibs right from the start.  But you had him now, covering your body with his, moving above you, all yours, driving the last vestiges of your hangover away, and that was all that really mattered.


End file.
